


Faded Memories Of Me

by scarredsodeep



Category: AFI
Genre: Alternate Band History, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Jadam - Freeform, Javey - Freeform, Let's drop out of college and do the band, M/M, Romance, break-up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-11-07
Updated: 2005-11-07
Packaged: 2018-03-05 00:01:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 15,962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3097454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scarredsodeep/pseuds/scarredsodeep
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's been five and a half years since Davey last spoke to Jade. Five and a half years since Jade left for college and Davey stayed behind. Five and a half years since Davey stopped answering his letters and his phone calls...  Five and a half years later, Jade's done with college and AFI's in the market for a guitarist.  Five and a half years later, and two poisoned hearts still haven't changed... or have they?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Davey

All I ever wanted was his arms around me, his body by my side. I wanted to feel his touch and listen to him love me, to sing to him the words I’d written to the things I saw behind his eyes.

And for a while, I had had that. We were children, then, and he had kissed me first, sweet and loving and pure. We were young, then, and not as free as I now was.

We didn’t understand love and what it meant. We were stupid, then.

I wonder if he still thinks of me. There was love for him inside me still, and I hadn’t seen him since high school. He’d graduated first, kissed promises over my lips and sent letters into my hands.

But it was too hard, for me. I didn’t believe him, couldn’t write back. He’d left me after seven of the best months of my life, of our tender love and hopeful promises and fading scars. All I wanted, then, was to leave him in return.

I wonder if the letters still come. They were still coming when I moved out of that house, a year after he’d left me. The letters, first cheerful, had grown sad, pleading. Begging for words back, claiming love for me, promising to keep coming until he knew I was okay. Until he knew why I was pretending not to love him.

I think I was trying to prove that I could hurt myself worse than he could.

I wonder if he has our CDs. We’ve made something of ourselves, with this band. Does the godly Jade Puget care?

Of course not. He left me. And in return, I left him.

 

“What’re you thinking about, Lucifer?” Hunter asked me loudly. This was a new nickname for me; ‘Davey’ seemed to be too difficult for him.

I didn’t blame him for asking, though. Naturally suspicious (and vaguely homicidal), crazy Hunter had a right to be frightened by the look on my face. I stared at nothing, a smile of grim determination swept across my features, my growing-out hair curly and bouncy around my face, my makeup dark and my clothes monotone black.

“Just this guy I knew,” I confessed. “Long time ago. He went to college and we fell out of touch.”

Hunter pretend to be interested in my housewife banter for a good three and a half seconds as he deposited half the cereal aisle into our shopping cart. “Oh, that’s too bad,” he said tonelessly.

I shrugged. “I doubt he even remembers me.”

Hunter rammed the cart into the back of Adam’s legs. “Probably not,” he agreed as Adam yelped and turned around, scowling.

“What was that for?” he demanded.

Hunter smiled charmingly and burped in Adam’s face. Adam made a small noise of disgust and started returning cereal boxes to shelves.

“Hey! Those are for me!” Hunter protested.

“Hunt, we’re not rock stars. We can’t afford nineteen boxes of cereal, even if you can eat them,” Adam explained patiently. “You thinking about Jade again?” he asked me.

“I don’t know why,” I admitted quietly. “It’s been years.”

“I’ve been thinking about him too, lately,” Adam said, nodding. “He was a great guy. And he should be out of college by now…”

I raised my eyebrows at Adam. It wasn’t like him to remember high school. He had gotten along all right, but wasn’t one for nostalgia. He was just glad to be gone. “What’s your point?”

Adam blushed, setting our items on the conveyor belt. “Just nothing,” he mumbled. “We need a guitarist.”

I froze. “No.” Jade had played the guitar. Quite well. But he couldn’t come. He wouldn’t come. I loved him. I hated him. In this one hopeful, horrible moment, I longed for love, for Jade… for death. “We all stand no chance in this horrid romance,” I mumbled. Strange little rhymes often came to me, little phrases that I spit out and wrote down. Adam ignored it.

“Dave? Can’t you just call him? Please, we need him. We have shows to play. Just temporarily? I know he hurt you, but can’t we try? He’d pick up on the material quickly, and-”

“No!” I barked. Adam didn’t know. I’d told Adam that Jade didn’t write, that he’d betrayed me, dumped me, broken my heart. I’d blamed my scars on him. You couldn’t see most of them now- the tattoos hid them. The tattoos made it easier to forget, to be the man Havok I had created to lead my hungry army of followers. The tattoos were the only scars that mattered anymore.

“Dave, I won’t make you do anything you’re uncomfortable with,” Adam sighed, a pained look on his face. “But please, try to put the band first. We need a capable guitarist, and in high school, Jade was pretty damn good. He wrote his own music, remember?”

Hunter threw his bags into the back of the van.

“I don’t want to call Jade,” I told Adam firmly.

“Doesn’t AFI mean anything to you?” Hunter asked teasingly. He didn’t mean it, he never did, but it ripped me apart.

I called Jade.

 

“Um. Hello. Is- uh- Jade there?” I asked nervously. I hadn’t called his house since I was seventeen. That was over five years ago. My hands were shaking.

“David? Is that you?” Mrs. Puget’s familiar voice asked. “Oh, my goodness, it is! Why, you sound just the same.”

I laughed weakly. “It’s lovely to hear you voice again,” I said, and it was true. Jade’s mother was one of the nicest people I’d ever met, and she did a fantastic job raising him. I had enjoyed my time in Jade’s house, and even though she was busy raising little ones and not often there, she always was very pleasant to me. Even after she walked in on Jade and me, laying together and kissing…

Her son kissed beautifully. I could still taste him in my mouth.

“It’s been too long,” Mrs. Puget laughed. “I’ve missed your hooded little smile around our house… I’ve missed Jade, too. He always smiled and talked more when you were there… if only his brothers were so quiet!” She paused to sigh loudly. “Anyway, how have you been? Jade tells me you’ve made quite a name for yourself, Mr. Havok.”

My heart stopped. “J-J- he talks about me?” I stammered.

“Oh, yes. He never stops, has all kinds of t-shirts… he misses Adam, too, nice boy, and he’s crazy about your band, very proud. He’s been to more of your shows than to his own…” Mrs. Puget trailed off, chuckling. “Anyway, dear, I’m sure you had something better in mind than reminiscing when you called.”

I was euphoric. Jade had been to our shows! He had t-shirts! He talked about me, to his mother! I felt like I was sixteen again, when we’d first started being together. We’d always gotten along, sometimes skated together, but I remember the first time I went to his house… and his mother said, “So finally we meet the beautiful stranger,” and Jade blushed purple.

I was giddy and excited and bright pink.

I still loved Jade.

“Is- uh- does Jade still live there?”

“Well, you know how he is. Sometimes he does, other times he’s in Manhattan for all I know. He’s been in the neighborhood pretty consistently, though, now that he’s looking for his own place, so I expect I’ll see him today or tomorrow. Want me to tell him you called, dear?”

“Yes, thank you. I… I’d like to talk to him,” I said sincerely.

Cheerfully, Mrs. Puget replied, “Well, I would imagine. You two used to get along so well… it’s a shame you drifted apart. He mentioned that you don’t talk much anymore, but I don’t think he’s ever missed a Berkeley show. Of course, you’ve seen him there, so I guess you knew that.”

I had never seen Jade at a show. I had been looking for his perfect face since the beginning of time, or at least that’s how it felt, but his child-like innocence had never looked back at me from the crowd. And I had never expected it to, not after how I’d treated him.

I’d never believed him, when he said he loved me. They  
had been lies that I accepted to spend more time with him, but they had killed me, those lies in writing. They had hurt.

“Well, I’ll let you go,” Mrs. Puget bubbled. “Stop over some time, Dave. Johnnie and I would love to have you.”

I thanked the dial tone and hung up, still rattled. I’d been looking for him a while, now- just to see him, to apologize, but only by chance, I wouldn’t seek him out- and suddenly here he was. Adam wanted him for the band. His mother remembered me.

And our little Berkeley house was only 45 minutes away from where he was.

A tantalizing thought crept into my mind. If Jade played for us… he would live in the house too.

 

“I’m so sorry, Davey. I shouldn’t have pressured you into calling,” Adam said apologetically.

I was actually excited. The possibility I might see my lover again, though surely he would no longer love me, was thrilling. I wanted Jade with the entirety of myself, more than anything else at that moment.

“S’okay,” I said to Adam, letting a grin slide onto my face. “It’s good for the band. Who knows? He probably won’t even do it.”

“How can you be so cheerful about all this? You were heartbroken, crazy over him and ready to die because of what he did to you- and now he’s just some guy,” Adam said, concerned. Hunter listened with disinterest.

“Don’t get me wrong, it’s fabulous. But you were so depressed before- I just, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you,” Adam sighed, giving up.

“I came to terms with it. I’d like to see him again… I’d like him to see me,” I admitted.

Adam nodded. Revenge he could understand. “He’ll see you, Dave… and remember what a bastard he is. He’ll remember what he’s done. And regret it.”

“Or forget,” I said. God, how I hoped he would forget.

  
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. All publicly recognizable characters and settings are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.

This story archived at <http://www.afislash.com/viewstory.php?sid=3150>  



	2. Davey

“Jade, dearest,” my mother said in a voice that implied a lecture, and set down her fork.

“I came here for dinner, mom. So I could visit you, like you asked,” I sighed, hoping to avoid her scolding.

“Someone called for you,” she said, voice gentle. “I don’t mean to pressure you to do anything, don’t get angry. You’re twenty-two, far too big for me to order around. It’s just… I would sleep better, if you returned the call. It’s been too long since I’ve heard of you together.”

“Who called?” I asked, feeling guilty- a unique power of hers, projecting guilt. I already knew I’d call.

“David,” she said quietly.

“D-Dave called?” I choked, hurt and lust welling up inside me simultaneously. I had given myself entirely to Dave; mind, body, and soul I’d loved him. More than anything.

And he hadn’t loved me, I so cruelly was informed. The wounds were still sore.

“And why did he call?” I asked, voice catching on the words.

My mother smiled hopefully. “I told him that you’d been to his shows. He sounded so happy, Jadey… I miss your smile. You’ve never been as happy as you were with him. Please, just return his call.”

I sighed. I was surging with emotions; hate and pain and horror.

“Okay, mom,” I sighed.

No matter what happened, I promised myself, the way she smiled at me would make it all worth it.

 

I dialed the number, hands shaking.

I wanted to see Davey again. I wanted to be everything he’d ever wanted but I hadn’t been then; I wanted him to want me again. I wanted him to love me.

He’d never loved me before, so I didn’t know how now could possibly be different.

And I knew that if he was happy, or if I met the one he left me for, it would destroy me.

But I had to do it. I had to see.

I had to be who I had been, at least for a little while. At least for one phone conversation, I had to be Davey’s Jade again.

After that, I could do whatever I wanted.

After that, I could move on.

“’Lo?” a man answered. I didn’t recognize the voice.

Immediately, jealousy rose up in me. This was bad. This went against the plan.

There wasn’t supposed to be another.

“Who is this?” I demanded, before I could stop myself.

“Who is THIS?” the man asked back quizzically.

Suddenly I recognized the voice.

“Adam?” I asked incredulously.

“Jade?” who I now recognized as Adam squealed excitedly. “Oh, man! I thought you’d died!”

“Adam!” I shrieked. “Jesus Christ! You’re the one who died! How have you been?”

“Oh, you know. Famous,” he laughed back. “How ‘bout you, man? You still get gnar-gnar?”

“No one to skate with but Smith,” I explained. “And he’s too good. It’s embarrassing.”

Adam sighed happily. “So how’s your band going? You still play? Got a girlfriend?”

“We broke up a while ago. My band, I mean. And without a band, it’s pretty hard to secure a girlfriend. You?” I didn’t mention that we both knew I was too flaming to even fake a relationship with a girl. It came much more naturally to hide a relationship with a guy.

“Nah, I’m more of a one-night stand guy myself. The only chicks who are interested in guys in bands don’t offer anything deeper than that,” Adam admitted. “So how was college? Am I ever gonna see you again?”

“College was a waste of time. I dunno- that’s kind of why I was calling. Maybe,” I tried to explain.

“What’re you doing calling Dave, anyway?” Adam asked, voice getting harder.

I had to wonder why he sounded mad at me. What had I done, but get hurt? “He called my mom,” I said honestly.

“You’re my friend, so don’t take this wrong way, but you’re not gonna hurt him again, Jade,” Adam said quietly. “I won’t let you get that close.”

“What the fuck are you talking about, Adam?” I demanded.

“Adam, who’re you talking to?” a new voice interrupted from the background. This one was Dave, I could tell.

“No one,” Adam lied.

“Give me my phone,” Davey ordered, and he must have taken the phone away from Adam because then his voice was louder and clearer, and he said, “Hello? Who is this?”

“Hi Dave,” I said quietly.

“J-Jade,” Davey said, his voice wavering and losing its confidence.

These were the first words we’d spoken in more than five years.

“H-how’re things?” he asked shakily.

“Why did you call, Dave?” I asked sharply, no longer scared. I knew what I had to do, and that was make him sorry. I had to hear him apologize for what he’d done to me- or at least, see him suffer.

“I need to see you,” he said quietly.

“I don’t ever want to see you again.”

I could feel my words sting him, and I hadn’t felt anything so good since he’d last said he’d loved me. It was better than watching him on stage; it was better than the dreams I still sometimes had; it was better than the way my heart jumped with hope every time there was something sticking out of the mail box because maybe, just this once, it was from him.

“Please, Jade. I need-”

“No.”

“-you,” he finished, and I couldn’t help it. I melted.

There was something in his voice that promised the love I’d never had. I couldn’t hang up. I had to add: “I’m at my mom’s for the next forty-five minutes. If you need me so bad, that’s where I’ll be.”

And then I hung up.

 

I was taken aback when the doorbell rang. Sucking the freshly beaded blood off a steely, torn callus, I glanced in the mirror on my way to the door. My hair was fluffier than I would’ve liked, but I was wearing a Cure t-shirt I was fond of. I looked okay, I decided. Now that the anxious part was over with, it was time for the execution. I took a deep breath and opened the front door.

There was Davey. Perfect Davey. As soon as I saw him, I welled up with impossible hate.

“Hi,” he said meekly.

“What do you want?” I demanded, as harshly as I could.

“I- I want you,” he sputtered.

My heart stopped beating. That was low.

“I just wanted to-” Dave tried, flustered and pleading.

“It’s too fucking late for what you want!” I interrupted him. After all he’d done to me, the bastard didn’t even deserve to be spoken to. I wasn’t sure why I’d opened the door in the first place.

“If you hate me so much, why have you been coming to our shows?” he asked, and his familiar stubbornness began to creep into his voice.

“I never said I hated you!” I yelped. He didn’t understand anything. Of course I didn’t hate him. I wanted to- but I didn’t. I couldn’t. “I loved you! I had to see if you were okay, why you’d left me- who you’d found to make you happy. I don’t hate you. I never did. I just wanted to see you- I wanted to see if he made you as happy as you deserved to be- I wanted to be there if you ever needed me again,” I finished, voice getting weak.

“You-you did?” Davey asked, eyes big and brown and wet. “You- I- there was never anyone else, Jade. I-”

He stepped forward, reaching out his hand to touch me.

I backed away, shaking my head hard. “No. I told you to get away from me.”

“I need you again,” Davey said quietly, looking confused and desperate. “I’ve always needed you.”

“I’m done waiting for you, Dave,” I said carefully. “It was stupid not to move on. You made it clear that I should have.”

“I-I was young and stupid, Jade. But I’ve grown up. Can’t you forget the past?”

“I’m trying to!” I yelled. I’d never hated, or loved, Dave quite as much as I did right at that moment. “Do you really just expect that after five and a half years of heartbreak I’ll just take you back? You were the most important thing in my life, and you just walked away without so much as a glance behind you! You didn’t even say good-bye to me! Do you really expect me to take you back?”

Davey winced. He closed his eyes, swallowed hard, and said, “No.” Opening his eyes, staring back at me defiantly, his voice grew stronger and he crossed his arms. Stubborn. Indignant. My Davey. “No. I only expect you to hear me out.”

He was just the same as he’d always been. In that moment, I almost wished I hadn’t.

But I had.

“Well, I won’t,” I said, and inside I was dying. “I loved you too much then to be with you now.”

“This isn’t about us, for God’s sake!” Davey yelped, startling both of us. “Listen to yourself! You’re a grown man, Jade. Will you please act like it?”

“You grew up and got over it, David. But I never did.”  
Davey sighs, and looks at his feet. “Just- please, Jade. I’m not here about what happened when we were kids. I’m here because of something I value more than anything- even myself.”

“What do you want?” I asked, giving in. I knew, I shouldn’t but I couldn’t help it. He was still beautiful, and it was clear he wouldn’t leave till I’d heard him out.

“We need a guitar player,” he said, humbled by a need greater than his own. “We’d like to hear you play.”  
For the first time, I realized that maybe this was as hard for Dave as it was for me. Harder, even.

“For how long?” I asked quietly.

“Just temporarily,” Dave was quick to assure me. “Just till we can find someone else. But we need someone to do shows till then… you still play, don’t you?”

If Davey knew me at all, he’d know the answer to that. Music was my life. Couldn’t he see the calluses covering my fingers, the cuts and sores from snapping strings and cracked picks dotting my hands? Couldn’t he smell the fresh steel on the fingertips, read the assured pitch in my steps, feel the rhythm of my breathing and the melody of my heartbeat? Did he even have to ask? I could never give up the guitar. Music was my everything. It always had been- but had consumed all else in the time since he had left me. It was really all I had.

That was exactly why I couldn’t turn down something like this. As much as I hated him for taking himself from me, I also had to love him for giving me a passion for music I’d never known before. And now he was offering me the stage. The boy- although in retrospect, I guess he’s a man now- I loved needed me.

And I’d been waiting for him to need me for years.

“Okay,” I said softly.

Davey looked up, surprised. “O-okay?”

“Okay,” I repeated.

A small smile came over Dave’s face. “Really? You’ll do it?”

No, I was kidding the first two times, I thought. But I couldn’t really believe I was doing it either, so I just nodded, allowing myself a tiny smile.

“Great,” Davey said, and now relief came over his features. “That’s great. Of course, you’ll have a lot of learning to do-”

“I know your songs,” I admitted, heat creeping up my face. I knew Davey’s songs by heart, and I played them as often as I played anything else.

Dave looked stunned at this. “Uh- oh. Okay. You’ll probably still need a little, um, instruction from Hunter… he’s our bassist now, Hunter… I guess you knew that. He’s the blond guy… um, who plays the bass. I guess you knew that too… um, so, I’ll just give you the address and you can come by tonight… anytime’s okay, we’re all bums, we’ll be there-”

Davey was rambling, but I didn’t mind. He’d always been long-winded, and tended to keep talking till you interrupted him. It was good to see that something were still the same.

I let his voice wash over me, and I tried to get used to the idea of playing for him. I knew I was good enough- I could play better than their last guitarist had, anyway, and always ached with improvements when I played their music. It’d never been mine to adjust before, though. Now, maybe, it would be.

I wasn’t worried, just nervous. I knew that after my audition, as long as I stuck to their guidelines and didn’t improve on their songs without their permission, they’d want me. My style was a little different from theirs, and I wasn’t sure if I could stand being around Dave much longer, but I knew they’d want me to. As long as I kept myself in check, they’d be begging me to play for them.

I was relieved when he finally pressed the address into my hand and left. Auditions always made me nervous, and this was a bigger deal than any audition I’d ever done. This was a band with three CDs out- this was a band that toured. This was a concert that people paid more than five bucks to see, a concert with tickets that cost more than the drinks. This was Davey’s band.

I ran upstairs to shower, agonize over an outfit, and- most importantly- get my baby ready to play Davey’s heart out.

  
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. All publicly recognizable characters and settings are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.

This story archived at <http://www.afislash.com/viewstory.php?sid=3150>  



	3. Davey

“Adam, I did it!” I yelped. “He’s coming! Jade’s coming!”

Adam raised his eyebrows at me. He was at the kitchen table, papers spread in front of him.

This meant he was paying bills, and not in a good mood.

“Jade’s coming here,” Adam repeated, “and you’re happy about it.”

I bit my lip ring and nodded. I was overflowing with excitement.

Our meeting had gone less than well, but that didn’t matter, because he’d agreed to come. I’d see him again- we could all sit at the kitchen table, or on the couches, or on the front steps. Me and Jade, and Adam- it would be just like old times.

But without his arm around me, without his head resting in my lap, or his fingers laced through mine.

He didn’t love me anymore, didn’t want to forgive me. Nothing could ever be the same and I knew that- but it didn’t stop me from pretending it would be. My hope was like a cockroach. No matter what happened, it just wouldn’t die. Jade would have to crush it underneath his foot for it to finally stop squirming around in its own quiet, disgusting delight.

“You’re gonna get hurt, Dave,” Adam sighed. “It was a stupid idea. I should never have-”

“No,” Hunter cut him off, heading for the fridge the second he entered the kitchen. “It was a great idea. We need a guitarist, and that’s what your man Jade is. Nobody said he had to be anything else. He doesn’t have to be best friends with Spooky, Adam- he just has to show up and play. That’s all we need.”

For once in my life, I completely adored Hunter Burgan. “See?” I said triumphantly. “See, it’s all right! He’ll play. We’ll see if we want him. He’ll leave. What’s the big deal?”

Adam sighed, shaking his head. “I just- I don’t like hating Jade. He was one of my best friends, too- he didn’t stop calling me, Davey. He stopped by my house whenever he was home. Begging to see me, begging to just talk- asking what he did wrong, like he didn’t know. And every time he came and he begged, I always had to say no. because otherwise, I’d be hurting you, just like he did. I missed his friendship, Dave- I don’t want to have to hate him again.”

“Jesus,” Hunter whistled. “So is this guy an ax-murderer, or what? I never got the back story.”

“Just an ex,” Adam muttered. Louder, so Hunter could hear, he said, “He was an asshole to Dave, way back when. I just don’t want to see Davey get hurt.”

“I won’t get hurt,” I said forcefully. “So just calm down, all right? Jade never- he wouldn’t hurt anyone. Everything will be fine.”

Adam shook his head, sighing. “I hope so.”

Hunter had stuck his head back inside the fridge, and I was alone with my grin. Before Adam could start up again, I ran up the stairs to change my clothes for the third time that day, and maybe scrape a layer or two of crap off the floor in the hallway. Three single guys sharing a house wasn’t very pretty, and I knew Jade- my Jade- wouldn’t expect much, but still. It was a miracle the house was still standing after so many months of Hunter, but it didn’t have to look that way.

 

My room turned out to be the only area of the house docile enough to clean. The hall had gone feral, Hunter’s crap plastered to the walls and floor- and in the bathroom, the half dead piles of dirty clothes, discarded food, and snapped bass strings only doubled in size and ferocity.

I hadn’t seen the inside of Hunter’s room for nearly a month, and was fairly confident it had been taken over by a man-eating plant that was using inhuman Hunter as bait to lure Adam or I into its lair. Adam’s door was locked from the inside, and actually had been for a week or so. He’d been sleeping on the couch, and we were considering breaking down the door.

Only a crazy man would’ve approached the kitchen, and the dining room, converted into our practice area, was as neat as a room overflowing with band equipment could be. Relatively neat Adam kept his sleeping area presentable, and I was left with my room.

My room and I have this agreement. I don’t poke around, and it lets me live. I shield it from the sun with oceans of clothing and it doesn’t eat my bed, which is only discernable in that it is the broadest of the piles of clothing.

As I crept to the window, the room became aware of my plot against it. It threw up a knot of vinyl, catching my foot in a trap of death, but before I fell I managed to grab the correct string, and the sun shot through the opening blinds.

Caught off-guard and now blinded, the beast was soon subdued, and I peeled off layer after layer of its protective covering. Clothes I began to fill the empty closet with; make-up I dropped on the desk I’d had since I was nine. Books and CDs got stacked in a corner. Everything else, I beat to death with a recovered combat boot and threw it away.

Within an hour my room was, more or less, tame. If we had had a vacuum cleaner, I might have attempted discerning the carpet from the dust, but as it was my carpet just looked grey. I knew for a fact it had once been blue, but I felt I’d accomplished enough for one day.

When I turned down my stereo and mopped sweat off my forehead with my sleeve, I heard strains of something not the Sex Pistols.

Something that sounded an awful lot like a guitar.

“Shit!” I yelped. Ripping my sweaty sweat-shirt off and yanking a brush through my hair, I leapt into the closet and grabbed the closest clean shirt.

Jade was here.

  
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. All publicly recognizable characters and settings are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.

This story archived at <http://www.afislash.com/viewstory.php?sid=3150>  



	4. Jade

“You want to warm up?” Adam asked me, smiling shyly. He knew I didn’t need to; he could see that I’d been playing all day. He knew.

I could see then that he was just the same.

“I don’t need to,” I said, pointing out the obvious.

“I know,” Adam shrugged. I asked if you wanted to. Get to know the feel of Hunter’s amp… play a little before we all come and stare at you.”

I ached with the familiarity of Adam. Standing here beside him, listening to his voice, being with him- it was my old life, back again.

The only thing that was missing was the boy I loved. He’d grown into a man that I hated. The Davey I was in love with was gone.

It wasn’t fair that Davey was so different when Adam was just the same.

His blue eyes were like ice and they froze my heartbeat. He smoothed down unruly dark hair and said quietly, “You miss him, don’t you?”

I stiffened immediately. Stared into Adam’s cold eyes, slid my eyes over the sharp angles of his face. Looked at his stance- defensive, feet spread, arms taut with a drummer’s muscles.

He was mad.

“Yes,” I said softly. He’d startled the truth out of me, and once I wasn’t lying anymore, it poured out. “Of course I miss him. Every day of my life I wish I’d never left for college because maybe then I wouldn’t have lost him. Every morning I wake up without him by my side, I feel the world close in around me and I have to get out. I can’t breathe without pain; I can’t blink without missing him. Every time I close my eyes I hope he’ll be there when I open them, and every time he’s not I die inside. I can’t eat, I barely sleep. I can’t stay in the same place more than a week because it suffocates me. I can’t do anything, anymore, but play. Music is the only thing left to hold me, ever since he’s gone. I thought it would fade but it’s only gotten worse… Yes, I miss him. I miss you. I miss who I used to be.”

I felt burning in my throat and stopped talking. I bent my head away from Adam, whose breathing sounded shallow, and fussed with my guitar case, unzipping it and picking off lint. My guitar was battered, and old Gibson that had belonged to my grandfather. I was saving to buy my own- a new Les Paul- but I’d been out of work lately, and my epileptic living habits were slowly draining my account.

“Then you’d better play like a god today,” Adam said simply. “You’d better give us no reason other than Dave to possibly send you away.”

I nodded and picked up my guitar. “I want to warm up,” I said.

 

When Davey slipped into the room and leaned against the wall thirty minutes later, I tried hard not to notice. As I had done earlier, but this time with less success, I tried not to take in everything that had changed about him- his hair was growing out, just below his ears now; he was paler than ever, he’d had his lip pierced and his tattoos had spread- and everything that hadn’t. He was still the same graceful, languid boy I’d fallen in love with; though taller, he was still slim and dark and sad. He was dressed entirely in black, as usual, and his thin, feminine face was accentuated with careful lines of dark kohl.

I hated myself for noticing him and forced my one brief glance out of my mind. I looked instead at Adam, who smiled guardedly. He looked almost afraid of me, so I cast my eyes down at my guitar. It was liquid in my hands, rippling beneath my fingers. I realized that there were tears building in my eyes, so I closed them, and broke away from the familiar melody I’d played hundreds of times before. Swallowing hard, I spiraled into a solo I’d never played before, forcing my anguish into the strings. It screamed my agony in the violent poetry of darkness, each fresh chord another wave of my blood, each new note a bullet to my heart. It was clean and beautiful and alive; it was a dying man’s last agonized cry. It was white hot ice cold, blindingly dark and suffocatingly free. And then it was over. It crescendoed and fell, overwriting all emotions with its vibrating chords, vivid and clear in my mind. My fingers stopped twitching across the neck and I knew my audition was done. I was exhausted.

I dared look up again, and what was meant to be a gauge of Davey’s reaction turned eye contact. He’d been staring, waiting for me to look up. In his eyes I saw hunger and pain, but his face betrayed neither emotion. Stifling nervousness, I chewed on the calluses on my pointer finger and looked over at the bassist. He looked satisfied, smiling widely, eyebrows raised- he was impressed. And he had every right to be- I had never played better in my life.

I knew it was Adam’s decision if I was in the band or not. I carefully denied myself any emotion, fought the shaking in my unoccupied hands, and met his eyes.

Adam looked unsure.

I could have handled disgust. A flat-out ‘no’ would have been fine. But trepidation? What had I done to earn this almost distrustful stare from good-natured Adam, who a few moments ago had been a kindred spirit?

“I’m sorry,” I offered lamely, wincing at how feeble the words sounded. Strengthening my voice, I went on, “I shouldn’t have done that. It’s-it’s not mine, I don’t have the right to improve- I mean, improvise, on your stuff. I can just go… I’m sorry. This is your band, your music… I can see now that this won’t work.” I was rambling absently as I packed up my things, some music I’d written and a couple of picks. I unstrapped my guitar and was slipping it into its soft zippered case when Adam finally spoke.

“You’re right,” he said sadly, his eyes on Davey. “This won’t work.”

Exasperated, the bassist finally spoke up. I could see he’d been itching to speak ever since I’d finished. “Addison, that was fucking amazing. I’ve never heard anyone play that good. Why on earth isn’t he good enough for you?”

I hesitated, my guitar case strapped to my back. Head down, I glanced at Adam through my bangs. I knew I looked like a kicked puppy, but I felt like one. I’d failed some sort of test, and for once in my life, apology became a cowardly wall to hide behind instead of a stellar defense.

Adam’s eyes bored into me. “It’s not about his playing,” he said curtly. “He’s one of the most talented people I know. It’s-it’s complicated, Hunter. It just won’t work.” I paused, and added with distaste, “I’ve asked you not to call me Addison.”

“This is about Davey, isn’t it?” Hunter sneered, his cold emphasis on the name stinging with venom. “It’s always about poor delicate little Princess Davey.”

Davey turned pink and stared at his feet. “I-I don’t mind,” he mumbled. “If Jade plays. There’s extra room in the basement an-and we need someone.”

I looked from Adam to Davey, thoroughly confused as to my role in all this.

“It’s up to you, Dave,” Adam relented. “I just thought-”

“A little tension never hurt anyone,” Hunter interrupted sarcastically. “If you don’t keep Jade, there’s a lot of talking you’re gonna have to do to keep me from walking. I didn’t sign up for a soap opera, and last time I checked, we need a guitarist at least half as good as him.”

Davey smiled weakly. “It’s just temporary,” he finally said. “I think it’ll work out fine.” He paused, and then grinned at Adam. “Besides, we don’t want to run the risk of finding another Hunter, do we?”

“So he stays?” Hunter asked, seeing my deer-in-the-headlights stance and coming to the rescue.

Adam smiled. “Yeah. Looks like he does.”

“Actually,” I finally said, trying to smile. It was just temporary- hanging out with Adam, playing for a band worth my time, a steadier income than I’d had since ninth grade. There was no reason not to take the opportunity before me. “Actually, I’m eating dinner with my mom tonight, so I have to go.”

Assuming position of grand coordinator, Adam nodded tersely. “You can bring your stuff over tomorrow morning. Even if you don’t move in, all your things ought to- things get kind of hectic here. There’s no schedule, we practice whenever it’s feasible. Which isn’t often. If you’ve got a few minutes, Dave can show you the basement.”

“If you can tame it, it’s yours,” Hunter laughed.

“I haven’t had a permanent residence in a long time,” I said carefully. My lifestyle was based on migration; I wasn’t sure if I could stand living in one place for more than a week. But then, the only reason I’d ever had to move was to get away from Davey’s absence- here, maybe it wouldn’t be such an issue. He was here, even if he wasn’t mine. He would be there every morning, and hadn’t that been what I kept running for? I cleared my throat and added, “I’ll try my best.”

  
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. All publicly recognizable characters and settings are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.

This story archived at <http://www.afislash.com/viewstory.php?sid=3150>  



	5. Davey

Of course, Adam and Hunter saw it fit to leave me with the man as soon as he’d been welcomed into the band.

“That was really beautiful,” I said coolly, trying to swallow the lump in my throat. “What you played.”

I’d forgotten how perfect he was when he was playing, how beautiful and preternatural he became. How chilling his solos could be. And he’d gotten better- if he’d written what he’d added to our song, he’d gotten much better. He was already better than the band- but maybe, with him around, we’d catch up.

He pushed some of his un-straightened hair off his forehead, smiling uneasily. “I can’t really- um- control what happens when I play,” he said formally. “I didn’t mean to do that to your song.”

I shrugged as he blushed. Somehow I was more at ease than he was. “Wanna meet the basement?”

“I’m actually beginning to fear this basement of what you speak. Is it a gentle giant?” he asked meekly, stripped of his usual sarcastic confidence.

Wincing at the thought of why this probably was, I said only, “Well… it’s usually pretty timid. C’mon, the stairs are in the kitchen.”

I led him to the miserable staircase, steeling myself again the mildew smell. It was dark, cold, and half-finished. The rafters were exposed and the walls were unpainted, but there was carpet on the floor, a pull-out couch, strings of white Christmas lights twined around the bare rafters, and an old television with a half-functional VCR. There was plenty of open space, and stacks of boxes of our crap and some from the people we were renting from. Adam hated the smell and I couldn’t be in the damp air for long, and even Hunter shunned it, but Jade looked around happily.

“I can have the whole thing?” he asked, sounding surprised. “All this space?”

I shrugged. “We’ll get some more lights down here, and some more furniture- if you burned some incense, the smell’d probably go…” I trailed off.

“This is so great. This is mine!” he said enthusiastically, grin spread wide across his innocent face.

“You always were optimistic,” I smiled, incredulous. He was still easy to talk to. He didn’t seem to hate me as much as he should, either. I began to realize that maybe I’d been forgiven. “Not even Hunter was willing to sleep down here, and you’re excited about it. …You haven’t changed at all.”

I was taking a chance, with the last bit. Testing how far into our past I could casually go.

Not that far, apparently.

“Actually, Dave, I have changed,” he said sharply, laying his guitar and his sheaf of music on the coffee-stained couch. “You’ll find I’m almost nothing like I was.”

“Look, Jade-” I started, but cut myself off abruptly. I didn’t know where to go from there.

Leaving an opening, however, was a mistake.

“Why does Adam look at me like he does?” Jade asked suddenly, eyes sizing me up carefully. “Why doesn’t he trust me? He looks at me like I’m a criminal.”

I bit my lip. He hadn’t changed- same piercing questions as always. “I- um- I don’t know,” I lied.

But Jade didn’t love me like he once had. My lies were no longer forgivable; he was no longer blind to my shaky deceptions. “No,” he said accusingly. “You do know. If I’m going to stay here, Davey-”

He didn’t finish his threat. I knew he’d leave if I didn’t answer- I could see in his eyes how he hated me. Everything before this had been for the only thing he still loved: music. He could pretend not to hate me if it’d put a guitar in his hands. I began to understand, and my case began to dissipate. Acting. He’d been acting and I’d let my guard down.

He wasn’t shy and quiet anymore. Now he was indignant and angry. Just looking at his wide, pained eyes made me feel like a horrible person.

Which, I reminded myself, I was.

“I-” He deserved the truth. I knew I had to tell him the extent of my betrayal.

But then Jade looked at his watch. “Shit, I promised my mom I’d be there at six,” he muttered, glancing at his guitar nervously. “I’ll be back tomorrow, David,” he said calmly. “I hope you can answer me by then, or I’ll be picking this up instead of dropping my other things off.”

I bit my lip, uneasy with his ultimatum. “Why does it have to be this way, Jade?” I asked, voice careful and small. He paused on his way up the stairs.

“Why, Davey? Only you know why. Things are this way because you made them this way,” he said coldly.

  
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. All publicly recognizable characters and settings are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.

This story archived at <http://www.afislash.com/viewstory.php?sid=3150>  



	6. Jade

“You’re just gonna get hurt,” Smith informed me, drinking out of a box of cereal. “Anyway, I thought you were gay. Why do you want a dude who looks like a chick if you like guys?”

I sighed, grabbing a handful of the tainted Frosted Flakes against my better judgment. I wasn’t the only son who’d promised to eat with our mother that night- and I wasn’t the only one wary of her cooking, either. “It’s not for him, Smith,” I insisted, picking out the backwashed flakes that were covered with his spit. “I either need a band or a job. And this band might actually have a chance- they’ve already put out three CDs, and god knows how much vinyl. This is my first worthwhile investment since Loose Change.”

Smith laughed. “You’ve had higher paying jobs since then, though, right?”

I rolled my eyes. “Yes, Smith.”

“So are you really gonna go live somewhere? I mean, one place? Settle down and everything? Have you even stopped running since college?”

“They’re putting me on stage,” I informed my brother. “If that means taking up a permanent address, so be it.”

“I don’t imagine they have any odd job I could pretend to be proficient at,” Smith asked hopefully. He was out of a job too, and generally slept at our mom’s. Occasionally a band he was friendly with would rent out a local venue, and they’d adopt him for two, three weeks. You never knew when he’d take off- he was at a show almost every night. If our venue had a big shoe coming through, he’d get 500 dollars a night to wear a black ‘security’ t-shirt and scowl. He was constantly pretending to be useful like that; people always fell for it, and Smith always got his way.

“Not that I know of,” I admitted, “but you should come with me tomorrow. Adam was asking about you.”

Smith nodded wisely in that way of his. “Adam always was a nice kid,” he said in the same all-knowing tone he’d been using all night. “But I suspect you only want help moving your things.”

“Nonsense,” I insisted, only half-lying.

Smith continued with his God-voice. “Do you expect to get Davey back, Jadeykins?”

I rolled my eyes. “No, Smiffie,” I snorted. “I- he’s an asshole.”

“I know you’re mad at him- but do you expect to get back together with him? In the end, in your mind, is it a fairytale?” Smith asked patiently.

“Fuck you, Smith,” I answered, voice catching. What did I expect, in the end? That this would go well? That this could possibly end up good for anyone involved?

No. All I expected, I told myself, was that in the end, I’d be able to afford a brand new Gibson. I’d be able to sleep in the same room for months, or at least weeks, at a time. Instead of pain at Davey’s absence, I’d be happy in my own presence. I’d have something more to live for, something new and bigger than myself… I’d be whole again.

Yes.

I smiled.

That was what I expected.

I expected only a guitar in my hands and a stage beneath my feet.

I expected only to play.

 

The next morning, I was up at 6:05. I hadn’t gotten up that early since high school. It was stupid, too- I’d already packed my things. My amp, my pedal, my acoustic. One box of other assorted guitar crap. Three boxes of clothes: jeans, blue and black; button-down shirts, black, white, and one red; two jackets; a pair of sneakers and a pair of dress shoes; a scarf; socks; boxers. Four ties and a entire box of band t-shirts. One box of books and CDs that lived in my car, never unpacked but often rifled through; another box of books and CDs left behind during my nomadic period. Two rolled-up poster- one of Weird Al’s leering face, the cover of UHF, my favorite movie, that Smith had given me for Christmas when I was fourteen, and the Loose Change poster we’d made with a Polaroid camera and Office Max in high school. The rest I left hanging on my walls with my records. I took the autographed photo of Stevie Wonder- another gift from Smith- and a stack of blank notebooks. The filled ones were already in my trunk, which was where they stayed. A battered box of other clothes and personal items, like my hair straightener and Batman action figure, was still in my car from my gypsy days.

As I lovingly unplugged my stereo and old Nintendo and added them, with my Spiderman sheets and pillow, to the last box, it struck me how permanent this felt. It seemed unnatural to have so many boxes- this was what it was like, I realized, for people who move for good. Not for the week, not for the month- to stay. For as long as they can.

It was scathingly unfamiliar, and I took my time loading my car. When I was done, there was just barely room for me and Smith. I was actually glad, for once, that I drove a station wagon that was an evil, exact replica of Mrs. Brady’s.

When I tore myself away from the sacrilege of my packed car, it was barely seven AM.

I knew I couldn’t show up so early, not without appearing overeager and lovesick, so I took a quick shower and ate breakfast. Then I sat on the couch and thought about Davey.

Adam didn’t trust me. Somehow, it was Davey’s fault. If Davey didn’t explain why, I’d have to sacrifice either my job, or my pride.

Would Davey ever offer me the explanation I deserved? Not for Adam, but for what happened? I knew I couldn’t forgive him till he did. If I could forgive him at all.

I still loved him, I knew that much. But I had to ask myself, would I take him back? If everything was forgiven, if he still wanted me, would I let him cut open all my old wounds and bury himself inside?

I shook my head, trying to clear it, and stood. What did it matter if I’d taken him back? He’d made it clear he was done with me.

It was time to move on.

I couldn’t believe I’d never seen it before, couldn’t believe I’d never realized it. It was so simple- it didn’t even matter why, anymore. Davey didn’t matter anymore. He didn’t love me anymore, it was that easy. If he didn’t love me, I certainly shouldn’t waste my time worrying about him. I’d always love him, yes- that was just the way love, real love, worked. I’d never stop loving him- I’d stop acting on it. It’d just stop mattering to me. It would become a fact instead of an oozing sore.

I thought about the boxes in my car and I was glad there were so many. Even if it wasn’t Davey’s house, I knew I could stay anywhere now- Dave had set me free. All he’d had to do was not love me. All along, that had been the key to my freedom.

I looked at my watch. 8:30. Too early to show up at the house of my great love- but of my friends. Adam, who was clearly still the responsible one, would probably already be awake.

I crept up the stairs the room Smith used to share with Gibson. I knew he’d be snoring in the top bunk, inches away from a poster of Darth Vader was spotted with dinosaur stickers.

“SMITH!” I screeched, throwing open the battered door and flying into his room.

It had the same effect it always had, ever since we were kids and he was the last one asleep on Christmas morning.

He was conscious, and sat up fast- or at least, tried to sit up, smacking his head, hard, against Darth Vader’s.

“Ghnn,” he moaned. “It feels like Christmas!” But he smiled, wide and giddy, as he’d always done, glad to be part of the excitement instead of just sleeping.

“I always do that,” he muttered to himself as he climbed down the ladder.

“Of course you do,” I laughed. “I make sure of it.”

“Wait- you do that on purpose?”

“I scream your name so you’ll jump and hit your head,” I said, shrugging. It was common knowledge. I’d been doing it all my life.

“You dirty little faggot!” Smith said disbelievingly. “So all these years you’ve been doing it on purpose? I just thought you were stupid and loud!”

“Nope. Just mean-spirited,” I amended.

“And now the truth comes out,” Smith said slowly, still sleepily comprehending my heinous crime.

“Brush your teeth and put on a shirt or something,” I ordered, not wanting to waste time on my murder. “We gotta get to Adam’s.”

Smith froze in the middle of ‘worthless cunt’. “Adam’s?” he asked incredulously. “Not Davey’s?”

I bit back a grin, excited to share my revelation. “No,” I said firmly, “not Davey’s. I’m not even friends with Davey- I’m just in his band. It’s Adam’s house.”

“I thought you were in love with Davey,” Smith said dryly.

Proudly, I announced, “I’m not in love with him. I haven’t been for five years. By now, I just love him. That’s all.”

Smith shook his head. “It’s too early. You’re not making any kind of sense.”

I shrugged. “Oh well. Now get dressed- we have to go!”

  
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. All publicly recognizable characters and settings are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.

This story archived at <http://www.afislash.com/viewstory.php?sid=3150>  



	7. Davey

When I buzzed into the kitchen for more coffee, a lanky mohawked creature was kneeling in front of the counter at eye level with the deviant coffee maker.

“Just one drop,” he reasoned with the thing. “Just one drop of DRINKABLE COFFEE and we’ll forget this whole thing. Just one drop and I’ll spare you your miserable life. In fact, I’ll declare you a god among my people. There’ll be churches to you, shrines that people pray at six times a day- you and I could do great things, coffee pot. Great things. We could be the most powerful men in America… in the world! You’d be the biggest thing since Jesus… all I want is ONE DAMN DROP.”

Could it really be Smith? “Smiffie?” I asked. “Is that you?”

“So this is your sonuvabitch coffee pot?” he accused, not breaking eye contact with the thing.

“My God, you’ve gotten so big… I wouldn’t have recognized you,” I said, exhaling softly. If this was Jade’s baby brother, more time had passed that I’d ever let myself imagine.

“Where was this thing made, Taiwan? I don’t think it even speaks English,” Smith informed me.

It was Smith, all right. “Bribery won’t work,” I laughed. “And it especially hates threats. Only the truth will work.”

“You look like death itself,” Smith chirped, giving up on the coffee and grinning at me widely, teeth flashing almost threateningly in the intrusive sunlight.

“What? Oh! I was up all night,” I explained. “Good to see you, too, by the way.”

“Yeah, you’re an asshole, just so you know. Now, about the coffee…” Prognosis declared, Smith locked eyes with the coffee maker again. “You listen to me, you overbearing Nazi bitch mother of Godzilla…”

The coffee maker gurgled happily, spewing more reddish water that I knew for a fact tasted like heavily seasoned slush that made behind your eyes burn when you drank it.

“You call this coffee?” Smith demanded.

“We call it paint thinner,” I said dryly. “Also see antifreeze and Drain-O.” I took the pot and dumped its lethal contents into the sink. “Watch and learn, Smith,” I instructed.

Replacing the pot, I hopped up onto the counter and patted the coffee maker’s chipped enamel head. “Hey buddy,” I began casually. “How you been?”

“What are you doing, Davey?” Smith asked, sounding frightened.

I waved him off and went on, “We’ve been a team for almost sixteen hours now. You help me and I help you. The thing is, Jade’s here now, and I have to be up all day instead of all night. I can’t do it without you… remember, there’s no ‘I’ in team.”

Smith had found a fork somewhere, and advised me, “Tell it I’ll stab it if it doesn’t behave.”

I glared at Smith fiercely, and bargained, “I’m going to change your filter, and then you’re going to yield me coffee. No more poison. Do we have a deal?”

The coffee maker spat a drop of black goo into the pot.

“Smith? Rinse this,” I instructed. As Smith poked at the glop uncertainly, I made myself busy refreshing the coffee pot’s filter.

This time, when I flipped the switch, dark brown coffee started bubbling into the pot.

“I’m signing up for your fan club,” Smith informed me. “And I might actually listen to one of your CDs. You are truly a god among small kitchen appliances.”

“Thank you,” I laughed, and sat down at the kitchen table across from Smith to watch the coffee brew.

 

When Jade came plodding up the stairs in tight girl’s jeans and a Depeche Mode t-shirt, I tried hard not to stare at his skinny, smooth body. He would’ve been too skinny, starved looking, if he wasn’t so graceful. Instead of sallow, his skin looking purposefully flawless, smooth and tight and exactly as it should.  
He ran his hands through his hair and half-smiled. “Smith? Can you go wire my speakers to the TV?”

“And the stereo, I expect,” Smith sighed, looking longingly at the coffee.

“Yeah,” Jade said happily. “I’ll bring down a cup for you when it’s done,” he added, seeing his brother’s reluctance.

I saw through his ploy. I’d been up all night figuring out what to say, and I’d finally decided on the truth. I had a speech all ready to go- I was actually kind of looking forward to it. Maybe this way, things would end up back to normal again.

Once Smith had been eaten by the basement, I sighed, ready to get the painful part over with. “So you want an explanation, right?” I asked. I couldn’t help it- I was not putting this off any longer.

“That’s okay,” Jade said, shrugging.

I froze. “W-what?” This hadn’t been factored into my preparation.

Jade shrugged again, his face calm. Betraying nothing. “I mean, it doesn’t matter, does it? If it’s a problem, I’m sure Adam will talk to me about it. Speaking of Adam, where is he?”

My heart was racing in my chest. Was this another subtle ploy? A way of wrenching out a confession?

It was twisted and it was cruel. He couldn’t ask Adam about it, that was cheating.

I glowed with admiration for Jade’s deviously brilliant plot.

“He’s setting up a new drum piece with Hunter,” I said, keeping my voice a carefully emotionless wasteland. “He found a better pedal than what he was using at a resale music shop in Berkeley. Why?”

“I haven’t talked to him in ages is all.” Jade hesitated, and then blustered hurriedly, “I wanna get to know Hunter, too. It’s not just Adam. It’s since I’ll be living with them, you know? I mean. I sort of get along better with Adam. After. You know. Right?”

Desperately, I suggested, “Or we could catch up. You have to live with me, too.”

Jade gave me a shy half-smile, but despite the innocent pretense, his next words cut deep. “I already know you plenty,” he said quietly, “and besides, if you want to hear about my life, you could always read some of those letters I sent you. You should have about four year’s worth.”

He turned to walk away. Swallowing the cry that had risen in protest to his words, I stood quickly and reached out, taking his thin wrist. It was warm, and fit easily in my hand. Maybe he is too thin, I thought lazily, stunned by the physical contact. Jade, on the other hand, tore away from it like my flesh burned him.

Whirling around, Jade bore down upon me with hate in his eyes. “Couldn’t just leave the wounds to heal,” he hissed. “Had to pour in the salt, didn’t you, Davey? Isn’t that how you’ve always been, the deepest cut, the longest scar, the biggest noise?”

When I said nothing, he continued angrily, “Never touch me again. Do you hear me? I laid my soul open to you and you pushed me aside. In all these years, the only thing I’d never wondered was why. I always knew why- I wasn’t good enough for you, I didn’t deserve you. I was always ready to apologize, to take you back! But in the last few days I’ve realized that it never was my fault. I never did anything but love you! …I was so concerned, so preoccupied with loving you, I didn’t even love myself enough to ask WHY!”

Jade’s eyes were on fire and his voice was raw with his passion. I’d missed how alive he could be, in love and in hate- I’d missed having all his energies pointed at me.

I couldn’t fight back the lust that swallowed me whole. He was loud and strong and alight- it didn’t matter with what, a fire burned within him and I longed for it.  
I was overwhelmed with our simultaneous love and hate, and the words he’d spoken to me- tears welled in my eyes and I realized my body was shaking. With fear, with despair, with lust. “I- I love-” I stumbled, voice thick as tears started to pour down my face.

“No,” Jade growled, eyes wide and full of fear. “No. Don’t you even SAY those words to me!” His voice grew till he was yelling. I backed up and hit the counter. My body was alive with need for his, for the severe ache and love of our past to shine in his eyes as it once had, reflecting my own.

But Jade wasn’t done. “You have no right to love me, David! No right! Not after what you did!” his voice broke again, shaking.

“I love you,” I said, low and husky as I could. I wasn’t thinking about what he was saying, only taking in the heat off his body. I wanted him to want me again, and I couldn’t help flashing the coy, sexy smile I knew flattered me.

“No,” he whispered, and suddenly he was sobbing. “No… you can’t…”

I reached my hands out, took his chin and stroked his cheek. His eyes were drowning, desperate and pitiful, and his face was already slick with tears. “I do,” I whispered, then leaned in and claimed what was mine, pressing my lips over his.

My whole body turned into flames with his touch, his lips salty with tears. He began to kiss me back, a familiar reflex, pushing back against my mouth- and then, suddenly, he stopped and pulled away from me.

“Why?” he breathed. “Why?”

He might as well have said he didn’t love me.

  
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. All publicly recognizable characters and settings are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.

This story archived at <http://www.afislash.com/viewstory.php?sid=3150>  



	8. Jade

I hated myself for the tears on my face, for the shaking in my limbs. I hated myself for losing my freedom so quickly- but most of all, I hated his taste on my lips.

“I- why?” Davey repeated helplessly, looking at me with horrible hurt, like I’d just ripped out his soul.

Good.

“I never want to see you again,” I spat. “But I need this job, and I miss spending time with Adam. I’m ready to stay somewhere and it might as well be here. But you- you stay away from me, David. Don’t even bother speaking to me again until you can answer me. Why?”

I didn’t wait for him to stutter an answer that pushed aside the question. I turned away, and this time instead of his hand it was his sobs that followed after me. They didn’t prompt me to turn; I’d shed plenty of tears over him.

It was his turn now.

 

Hunter alone was in the practice room, fussing with Adam’s drumset.

“Hey Hunter,” I said carefully. I’d never spoken to him before- we’d been in a room together, he’d watched my soul explode and then come to my aid, but we’d never actually spoken.

His smile was quick and easy, relaxed and casual. “Jade! Hey, man,” he grinned, sitting up, attention shifted from drumset to me so quickly and completely it was like he’d been doing nothing but sitting there waiting for me to talk to him for hours.

Suddenly the center of his attention, I found myself nervous. “You write the bass line?” I asked lamely, floundering for a topic.

He nodded. “When they let me. I’ll play anything, mostly.”

He was less ADD in person that he’d always appeared on stage. He was staring into my soul while I tried determinedly to gaze around the room, avoiding his piercing eyes, and it was terrifying. I felt like I was being hunted.

“I’ve seen you play. You’re good. Solid,” I thought to comment.

Hunter nodded again, I noted out of my peripheral vision as I carefully examined the brown water stain on the ceiling no one had bothered to paint over. Then, with no warning whatsoever, in the same conversational tone, Hunter ripped into my heart: “So what’s with you and Dave? No one here’ll tell me anything.”

Apparently, he was practiced at stalking and killing his prey. Defeated, I forced myself to meet his eyes. They were less harsh that I’d imagined, kind and imploring as they bored into me.

I exhaled heavily, but somehow a grin found its way onto my face. “It goes back a long way,” I heard myself chuckle. I was actually looking forward to explaining the whole bloody mess to Hunter. It would be a relief, to tell someone about it all.

Hunter looked around the room and shrugged. “I don’t have a day job,” he offered. “I’ve got all day to listen.”

“I’ve got about as long to talk,” I agreed. Suddenly the nervousness was gone, and I didn’t want to do anything more than sit there and tell Hunter exactly what had gone on over the last five and a half years.

 

Hunter didn’t speak until I was done talking. “Freaky’s gay?” is what he finally said. Incredulously. “God, that makes me feel so much better about the make-up thing.”

I understood, then, why they all liked Hunter so much, despite their complaints. That had been exactly what I’d needed to hear- it lightened the mood the perfect amount. It made everything okay again, and I laughed. It felt good to laugh about all this.

“There’s one part I don’t get,” Hunter said. “Addy and the gay pride posterchild act like he’s a victim in all this. Meanwhile, I don’t even know why you even answered your phone. I sure as hell wouldn’t have. I would have burned this fucking house down.”

I shrugged. “I need the money. Gotta get a better guitar, y’know? …Besides, I couldn’t pass up the stage. God, I love to play more than anything in the world.”

“More than Daaaay-veeeee?” Hunter teased.

I smiled into his manic blue eyes. Hunter’s support felt good. I could understand why they kept him around. He knew the right things to say, and when to say them.

I cocked my head to one side. “You know, Hunter, I don’t much love Posterboy anymore. I mean, I guess I’ll always love him, but… I’m beginning to realize there’s other things that matter more.”

“Like me, of course,” Hunter supplied. “And Adam.”

“Shit! Adam!” I realized. “That’s what I was supposed to do. Find Adam.”

Hunter stood and bowed graciously. “Do not let me deter you from your quest any longer, Sir Knight,” he said grandly.

“Nay; I shall tarry a bit longer,” I laughed. “Your company is something I enjoy.”

And it was.

  
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. All publicly recognizable characters and settings are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.

This story archived at <http://www.afislash.com/viewstory.php?sid=3150>  



	9. Davey

I was standing in the kitchen crying when Adam walked in.

“Oh shit,” he said, inhaling sharply. I looked up at him, and the tears came fresh.

He crossed the kitchen in the three powerful strides, and pulled me into his chest. He was good at hugs, arms thick and strong and tight around me, but what I needed was to be held. I needed Jade to hold me, a gentle extension of my body, molding our selves into one solid comfort.

Adam did one thing Jade wouldn’t have, though; he didn’t ask what happened. To him, the story didn’t matter till the end- to him, I was crying and I needed to be held. I needed a strong, unwavering presence to anchor myself to- that was him. The rest of it wasn’t his business.

“I’ll tell him to get out,” Adam said angrily once my sobs had slowed to almost a complete stop. “I’ll go find him and tell him to get his ass out.”

I hiccupped. “You’d do that? You’d tear apart the band for me?”

“This isn’t about the band, Davey… he’s a bastard. He never should have come here,” Adam said voice harsh and bitter.

I was taken aback by his disgust. Adam was rarely hateful- and I saw, now, that it was my fault he hated Jade. I had lied to him, and he was ready to kick out, and alienate forever, one of his best friends for my lie.

“Adam…” I said uneasily, hiccupping again. “He deserves to be here more than I do,” I added quietly, feeling the heat flood out of my body as I remember how Jade shrunk away from my touch.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Davey,” Adam scolded me. “You’re not making any sense.”

I half-smiled at Adam as the urge to cry rose in my throat again. “What if I lied, Adam? You were so ready to take me at my word… did you ever think that I might be lying?”

A dark shadow passed into Adam’s clear blue eyes, and he ruffled hair back from his forehead. Voice low and carefully guarded, Adam said, “I know you’d never lie to me, Dave. There’s nothing I hate more than being lied to. I know my best friend wouldn’t do that to me.”

I swallowed hard and a hysterical laugh broke out of me. “Oh, Adam,” I grinned, tears slipping down my face despite my uncontrollable smile. “Sweet, silent Adam,” I whispered, choking on my words, laughter gone. “You would have believed anything I said. Gentle Adam, like a lamb to the slaughter- you would have followed me anywhere. You would have done anything for my lie…”

Adam’s features turned sharper in his sudden solemnity. “No, David,” he said coolly. David. Far too many people had called me David that morning. Even as a child, it had never been a good thing when I was called that. It always meant I was in deep shit.

Which I was.

“No, David,” Adam repeated. “Not for your lie, but for you. You were my best friend. I would have done anything you needed me to do- I did. I gave up everything else that mattered but your friendship- I let everything I loved me and cared for just walk away, so I could stand here next to you. And now this? …How much was a lie?”

“All of it,” I moaned. I hadn’t expected this. What had Adam sacrificed? I had given up the man I loved, not Adam. I hadn’t thought he’d be like this- mad that I’d lied, yes, but understanding. Adam was always ready to sympathize and forgive, to comfort and forget- why now would he feel he deserved to be angry? I hadn’t done anything to him. He’d lost nothing.

He, I decided, was being unreasonable.

Adam exhaled slowly. “Why the hell would you lie to me, Davey?”

“Because I didn’t want you to choose Jade,” I said honestly. “He kept writing. He kept calling. If you knew I’d stopped, you would’ve chosen Jade. I didn’t want to lose my best friend over a failed high school romance.”

Adam glared at me, fierce hate unfazed by my new determination. Adam had lost nothing. He had nothing to mourn. “I would not have chosen him, David Marchand, and you know it. I would have told you to at least tell him things were over and nothing more. I was always more loyal to you- and now I wish I hadn’t been. I hate my blind loyalty to you- you’ve made me betray him as much as you did!”

“I didn’t make you do anything!” I yelled. “You could have talked to Jade! I wouldn’t have cared!”

“The victim you were PRETENDING to be would have!” Adam yelled back.

We were both screaming now, Adam’s ears bright red and my fists clenched until my nails cut my palms.

“You’re not a ‘victim’ either, Adam! I was the one who lost the one I loved, NOT YOU!”

Adam stopped cold at my last screech. “Really, Davey?” he hissed, voice low and icy. “Really?”

This slowed me down, and I lowered my now-strained voice. Still speaking loudly, asserting the dominance over Adam I felt I deserved, I scoffed, “Don’t be stupid, Adam! Friendship’s not the same. You didn’t love Jade the way I did.”

“Didn’t I?” Adam asked quietly, voice hoarse with what could have been anger, anguish, or grief. “Are you the only one who’s good at lying, Dave? Are you the only one that’s been pretending?”

I froze. Whatever Adam was implying, I wasn’t seeming to process it correctly. He couldn’t mean what I thought he did.

“What are you talking about?” I managed to demand.

Adam’s lips twitched into a sneer. “If you weren’t so wrapped up in yourself you’d know the answer to that.”

“You’re starting to sound like Mark,” I snapped. It was easier to be angry than to accept what he’d said.

“I’m starting to envy Mark for getting the hell away from this train wreck,” Adam said, argument clearly over  
by the cool finality in his tone.

His words burned like a knife between my ribs. The ones that he’d said to hurt me, and the ones he’d said to save himself. “Adam…” I reached out weakly. “This conversation isn’t done. We need to talk it over, we both know that.”

“Later, then,” Adam sighed. “For right now, I’ve had enough. I- I don’t even want to be alive anymore, I’m so tired of lying, of being lied to… no, there’s no more time for talking,” he decided wearily. “I need to play for a while, and then sleep… I need to go to sleep for a long time.”

I was silent as Adam left the kitchen.

In fact, I was still sitting there, blank and stunned, when Smith poked his head around the doorframe and said, “I was promised coffee delivery. Wherever has my zit of a brother gotten off to?”

I half-smiled in response to his seemingly affectionate tone. “I’m not entirely sure; we had something of a spat.”

Smith nodded wisely. “You’re a bitch, Dave… he’s not going to forgive you anytime soon. I hope you don’t expect him to.”

“Why shouldn’t I?”

Smith sighed, taking the coffeepot and sipping some of its questionable brew. “You utterly destroyed him, Davey. He hasn’t had an address since he graduated- he can’t stay in one place anymore, just because you’re not there. He loved you- I don’t know if you understand that.”

“I loved him, too! I still do,” I protested.

Smith squinted at me. “Davey,” he said quietly, shaking his head. “He’s thirty pounds underweight. He sleeps three hours on a good night. He’s been moving every other week, living out of an unpacked box, for over a year… he’s a sliver of who he used to be, Davey. He loved you, and then lost you in the most painful way he could have… you destroyed him.”

He paused, tipped his head back, and said gently, “Of course, I’m no expert, but that doesn’t seem like something you’d want for someone you love. …I love my brother, and it kills me to see him like this… kills me to see how pale and tired and utterly ruined he is.”  
Smith paused, saw the look on my face, and added more softly, “I’m sure you had your reasons, Dave. I just wish you’d gone about it differently and maybe spared him some suffering.”

I refused to let Smith make me cry. He was drinking out a pot of coffee, for God’s sake- I’d cried enough. It wasn’t even noon yet, and this was Smith.

“I never wanted-”

Smith held up his hand. “Listen, Davey, it’s too late to apologize, and it’s not me who you should do it to anyway. To be fully honest, your whole little soap opera kind of sickens me anyway. I didn’t want to talk about this, I just wanted coffee- and let me say, you look utterly wretched. You need it more than me.”

He pressed the pot, almost empty, cream- and sugar-less, into my hand. I stared at it dubiously.

Smith leaned in confidentially. “Here’s what you need to do, okay? I promise you’ll feel better. Drink this and go get your skateboard.”

A smile found its way onto my face, and I glanced again at the coffee. “Drink this,” I repeated.

Smith nodded, beaming, and confided, “Sometimes, Dave, you just have to close your eyes and chug.”

And, against my better judgment, I did.

  
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. All publicly recognizable characters and settings are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.

This story archived at <http://www.afislash.com/viewstory.php?sid=3150>  



	10. Jade

When Adam came storming into the practice room, Hunter immediately scattered, recognizing the barred eyebrows and crumpled sneer as danger signs.

I almost followed. Running from the discussion I knew I had to have with Adam. But something in my stomach caught; I blushed in spite of myself. I knew it was only nervousness, not the forgotten catch of breath and giddy dizziness that Davey had once, years ago, imparted on me. It was fear combined with the perfect comfort, relaxed familiarity, that overwhelmed me when I spoke to Adam. I was so consumed with missing Davey, I hadn’t even realized how much I’d missed Adam.

As I stood there letting my emotions overtake me, staring wonderingly at Adam, he settled himself in behind his drum set.

I bit my lip and looked him over. He didn’t seen to notice; he’d found an old pair of drumsticks and was adjusting the loose ends of the grip tape. He still looked furious, and I saw he was breathing hard.

I opened my mouth to ask if I should leave, but my words were thrown back at me as he ripped into his drums, attacking the cymbal and abusing the snare.

I sat on Hunter’s amp and waited.

Slowly, the rabid violence began to resemble music, a vicious solo of raw hatred and talent. It was unstyled, without the finer artistic touches with confidence and flaunted as energy not yet dulled by repetition. He knew what he was doing and he knew it sounded as good as it felt. It was complicated and angry and fast; he knew I was watching him and he knew I was impressed. As he went on, a smile began to replace his gritted teeth. He was godly to look upon, closed eyes and peaceful smile, and  
I knew how lucky I was to witness this. I felt lucky; the deep bass beat with my heart, the cymbal hissing with m breath, the snare urging on my thoughts. I’d thought I could only become one with my own music, because I was part of it, at near its core; with Adam’s music, I was nowhere near it, nonetheless an integral part until I could predict every beat, and every new progression sent a thrill of pleasure through me.

I was gasping for breath and screaming with joy and pulsing with life and bleeding notes into the air.

Slowly feeling my own form again, I was shocked to find myself still and silent. It seemed like betrayal to do nothing in response to Adam’s soul, beat into the pattern of his life. The rhythm thickened again, but I was freshly aware of myself, and not letting go. I slipped over to my guitar, which I’d just set up a few hours ago. My fingers were tense, ready and eager to play. Hearing Adam’s glory made me need to make my own, and as soon as I’d slid the strap over my head, my fingers took off; old cuts ripping open and tearing calluses sore, I sucked up the smell of steel greedily.

I wasn’t playing someone else’s music, but at the same time I wasn’t composing my own. Instead I was following Adam’s lead, nudging it to where I wanted it to go but not taking control as guitarists so often did; instead of overpowering, I coexisted with Adam’s obvious dominance, one step short of complete submission. With less freedom but more passion than I’d ever improvised with before, I let myself become suffused with my own alluring notes. I’d never entered a song already so intoxicated before; I’d played better, but never felt it quite as much- never been so in tune with anyone.

It felt like I was sharing Adam’s soul, not just his music.

Breathing hard, sweat pouring down my back, I glanced at Adam- arm muscles taut, concentration mingled with euphoria. I could feel the melody waning and allowed my notes to fade; it seemed natural, the rise and fall of human passion. I rode the crest and dropped, one hanging chord whispering its intimacies to Adam’s final slowing drum beats.

Both of us were panting as the silence closed in around us, and Adam was as drenched in sweat as I was.

Suddenly I was too shy to meet his eyes. Our sounds had been as lovers were, joined and passionate and always pushing back, reacting, pulling and begging and needing- the heady lust of writing music turned into so much more when shared with someone else.

This was the uncertain morning after, clumsy and fumbling for words- I didn’t know what I could say to Adam, after that.

I stared dumbly at my shaking hands as I set down my guitar. When I looked up, Adam was standing before me. I was surprised- he’d moved so quietly- but then, he had gained a surprising grace, and my heart pounding in my ears could have easily obscured his noises.

“That was…” I searched for a word that might begin to encompass what had just happened. There wasn’t one.

“Like looking in your eyes,” Adam breathed. His own eyes followed my slackened jaw, traced my wide eyes, measured my doubled heart rate. He smirked a little bit, but it didn’t take away from his sincerity.

“I was going to say fucking amazing,” I croaked, throat dry.

Adam’s smirk pulled higher, his lips curling into a barely suppressed smile. “That’s what I’ve always imagined kissing you would feel like,” he persisted.

I blushed, looking at my feet, chewing the insides of my feet. “No way… that was better than sex,” I mumbled, trying to joke but unable to.

“Look at me, Jade. Look back at me,” Adam implored gently.

My body did not feel the same reluctance as my mind in responding. My head tipped back slowly, my eyes taking there time searching the length of his body- long, solid legs; sweaty grey t-shirt clinging to pecs and abs, and probably shoulder blades, that were just as impressive as his legs; thick, tannish arms, round and rock-hard when he bent them; smooth neck leading to the familiar jutted-out chin, seemingly broken nose, and searching ice eyes. I finally settled on those eyes, but not before my most primal instincts had sized Adam up in a way I would’ve never before allowed, not before my legs were shaky and my head was more clouded than ever by a rush of desire.

I looked into his eyes, reaching as far as I could.

They took my breath away.

Adam’s smile grew less bold as shyness crept up his cheeks till they were flushed red as mine. “Did you feel that?” Adam asked, voice hushed.

Feel what, I wanted to ask. The deep plunge of terror and joy in my stomach? The sweat suddenly buzzing all over my electroshocked skin? The giddiness rising in my lungs, the crowded thoughts all rushing by too fast to comprehend, the way time itself seems to stop and twist till there’s nothing but me and you in the entire, scintillating universe?

It felt like every time I’m ever kissed Davey, all at once, just look in his eyes. It felt like what we’d just played was running in my veins instead of blood, my erratic heartbeat marking every time he breathed another breath.

But my voice caught and I found I couldn’t speak. Instead I nodded, hoping desperately my eyes said all I couldn’t manage to.

Adam stepped closer to me and took one of my hands. His palm was like ice; mine was shaking and sweating. His smile twitched again, something not unlike disbelief rushing over his powerful features.

“That’s what I’ve felt in your eyes for years,” he murmured, voice catching.

Again, my mind went reeling, spinning out of control. “Why did you wait for me?” I breathed, voice cracking like I was a prepubescent boy.

Adam shrugged. “I figured that love, real love, never dies. Once you love someone, you love them forever- whether you’re in love with them or not.”

I’d thought the same thing this morning- had that really only been a few hours ago? Everything that could have changed in that time, had.

Heart bursting, I moved closer, pressing myself into his chest, fusing our souls with our sweat. I pressed my face into his neck and his arms tentatively closed around me. I could feel his heartbeat, racing out of control, through all his body- strongest in his jeans.

“Why didn’t you eve say anything?” I whimpered, muffled against his body. He smelled like salt and fabric softener and just before rain and whatever deodorant he used, and I had never before realized how steadfast and loyal and strong Adam not only was, but also smelled. He smelled like home, a real home, where I knew I could easily stay forever.

Feeling the pulse of my own heartbeat, Adam pushed gently on my back, bringing me closer to him, holding me tightly in his arms. The only place I ever wanted to be. “I would have gone after you,” he said softly. “When you left. God, I would have followed you anywhere. I was absolutely smitten with you… but then Davey told me what you’d done. Which I guess you didn’t do after all… you never stopped writing or calling, did you?”

“Never,” I agreed, beginning to understand what Davey had lied.

Adam shook his head, said in a pained voice, “Of course not. Of course you wouldn’t. Not you…” He swallowed hard. “I believed him so blindly… I was so stupid, and young, and hurt… you’d never do that. The man I loved would never do that… but I believed him. And I came to a hate for you- after all, you’d never loved me, never even loved Davey. …I couldn’t have you, even if you didn’t want Dave anymore, because he was my best friend and you broke his heart. God, Jade, even when I thought I hated you, I loved you like crazy… I was so glad, when you were gone. Finally, I could just forget about you…”

“But you didn’t,” I said softly.

Adam nodded. “I didn’t. I couldn’t. I… you’re perfect.”

“I was never perfect, Adam,” I whispered, almost laughing. “Not until this moment, in your arms…”

My breath caught, and I couldn’t speak anymore. I wanted to laugh, or maybe cry- bubble over with the warmth seeping into me. Adam took one hand and brushed my cheek- moving into his touch, I moved away from his body and looked into his eyes.

He was smiling in the benevolent, I-told-you-so way of his. There was love in his eyes, and pride; he knew that I needed him even more than he needed me. He knew he was the strong one; that he would lead and I would follow, letting his steady heartbeat protect and shape my keening solos.

“Your eyes are beautiful,” I murmured, almost unaware of what I was saying, hypnotized by the blue infinity they held.

“It’s only your reflection,” he whispered back, my eyes sliding over his lips as he spoke. They were quivering and slightly chapped. I knew they’d be warm and soft in Adam’s rough way nonetheless. Uncertainly, I licked my own lips and looked again into his eyes.

“You do know that I want you,” I said shyly.

“I’ll admit that it’s likely,” he agreed, looking more relaxed and happy than I’d ever seen him.

“Maybe you should act on that,” I suggested.

“I’ve waited years for you… surely I can make you wait for me,” he teased.

“I refuse,” I whispered, and reached up with my hands and brought his face down close to mine. “I’ve been waiting too.”

Without further hesitation, I met his mouth halfway, and everything else in the world faded into nothing.

He’d been right.

It was exactly like looking into his eyes.

  
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. All publicly recognizable characters and settings are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.

This story archived at <http://www.afislash.com/viewstory.php?sid=3150>  



	11. Epilogue

I always thought Davey would end up with Jade. I always just assumed it would work itself out and they’d skip off merrily through a field of daisies to the Forrest Gump theme song.

Or at least, that’s what I thought until I walked into the practice room and saw Adam and Jade wrapped together, kissing like the world about to end.

Adam. And Jade.

Talk about a mind trip.

To be totally honest, it was the most disgusting thing I’d ever seen. At least when he’d been dating Davey, I’d been too little to witness PDA, and they’d kept it down. It’s not that I have a problem with gay people; it’s just the ones I know who disgust me.

So, I interrupted, paused to good-naturedly call them foul mouthsuckers, and then informed them of the complicated accident that had unfolded in the driveway: the skateboard, the ramp, and the UPS truck.

The long and short of it was that Hunter was laying there bleeding and couldn’t stand up.

They called an ambulance, which Hunter- who was sitting in a tree laughing when we came back outside- turned out not to need. But it was okay, because Jade did was more than willing to occupy it.

This transpired because Adam put his hand on Jade’s shoulder. This gesture, of course, enraged David the Drama Queen, who immediately had a fight with Adam; it ended with Dave calling Adam a backstabbing bastard and bursting into tears. When Jade moved to comfort his long-lost love with some bitter and well-aimed remarks, Davey slapped him. One of his many rings cut open Jade’s face; they both saw the blood pouring down his face and burst into laughter. Such a bonding experience, assault…

Anyway, Jade left in the ambulance, got four stitches, and came back Davey’s friend, Adam’s lover, Hunter’s playmate, and still- somehow- my brother. We both stayed, domesticating the basement. Jade gained some weight back, and eventually Adam offered to trade his room- equipped with half a functioning door- for my right to the basement. Jade started sleeping again (probably in the pirate’s arms, but I’d rather not think about that) and stunned audiences. Demand for a new album rose, the band stepped back and let Jade write most of the music, and for some inexplicable reason started paying me.

You could say that we lived happily ever after, but I wouldn’t go that far…

After all, we still don’t have a new coffeepot.

  
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. All publicly recognizable characters and settings are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.

This story archived at <http://www.afislash.com/viewstory.php?sid=3150>  



End file.
